The Ever After
by Aell
Summary: It's a few years after the Mages' rebellion and Hawke is beginning to question her decisions and the person she's become.  A new adventure could help but will it bring her closer to Anders or push her beyond his reach? HxA, HxF
1. Just Another Day in the Fade

**The Ever After**

**I should have no objection to go over the same life from its beginning to the end: requesting only the advantage authors have, of correcting in a second edition the faults of the first.**

**-Benjamin Franklin**

Chapter One: Just Another Day in the Fade

Ah, another trip to the Fade. Well...this never gets old. Hawke muttered to herself as she trudged down yet another lonely path in a seemingly endless loop of brown scenery.

You'd think with all the company they have, they'd redecorate now and then. Maybe some flowers? New curtains? she quipped aloud, pausing for heavy groans before she realized yet again what she was doing.

Ah. That's right. I'm alone. Well. I guess I can always tell that one to Anders later.

Anders...

Her mind, formerly focused on jokes turned to this with a somewhat familiar dread. It'd been months since she'd seen him last. Close to a year with this month over actually. And that wasn't exactly a problem of bad timing and missed opportunities either. Because for the last few months at least, she'd been actively avoiding him. And though it pained her to consider it she couldn't be sure he wasn't avoiding her as well.

It'd started out well enough. What with all the packing and fleeing Kirkwall and the constant worries of templars, chantry assassins and other assorted bogeymen there hadn't really been time to think about what she was feeling and what he'd done. What they'd done.

And then, when there was time, snatched moments really...she'd been so busy trying to make every second count that any thought or doubt she felt was fought off as viciously as a templar raid. She was happier for it too, the blocking of certain thoughts could go a long ways toward that.

But now this. A strange threat.

Peace.

Not a total peace, the Circles had fallen, unrest was high, their safety an hour to hour struggle some days. It was just that they were now one of many targets, some of those being far more ruthless than even Vengeance allowed for.

So there was time to think. For one thing, she was accomplice to murder. Another thing, she was a murderer. Not of killers and thieves but of the innocent. Nameless, yes, faceless yes but it could have easily been anyone she knew. Fenris. Sebastion. How often did they visit the Chantry? If they hadn't been with her that day, where would they be now?

No compromises. She thought unhappily. That's where they'd be.

And still she loved him.

It was just lately, that love had seemed rather twisted. More and more like a raft a man will cling to when he's drowning, than the shining thing it'd been before. I'm no better than that madman who took Mother's life, she'd thought bitterly on more than one occasion. We have similar motives, he and I...what with our obsessive love.

So because of this or in spite of it, she'd found herself avoiding him when they met up. Hiding from him when he visited their usual spots and she happened to be there alone. Work helped. The mages still needed help and fighting the occasional abomination was very therapeutic.

But mainly she tried very hard not to think of him.

It was these grim thoughts that were running through her head when she heard a tiny but still clearly pained squeak below her.

A mouse? she said, puzzled. That seems so familiar.

"Pardon me, Serah Mouse." Hawke said sadly, kneeling to examine the tiny body. "I didn't see you through this cloud of self-pity it seems."

...mmm..Fin..the mouse whispered in a tiny voices,

"What's that?" Hawke said leaning closer. "Could you possibly still be alive?"

"I said I'm fine." the mouse said, in a somewhat louder voice. "And I didn't mean to be underfoot. I just didn't want to lose sight of you."

And why's that? Hawke asked curiously as she dusted her hands and stood up.

"How else would I see what's behind that door?" it said calmly, motioning with its tail to the door that had sprung up behind her.

===============================================End Chapter


	2. The Mouse is Curious

This is where we radically switch gears, less angst, more adventure! Also enter one, small brown mouse...)

Chapter 2. The Mouse is Curious

Door?

Swiveling her head to the right, Hawke saw quite an interesting thing. A door had appeared. Ordinary. Nondescript. Very non-fade like.

"That...was not here before." she said turning back to the mouse. "At least I'm fairly sure it wasn't."

"I know." the mouse said. "It only shows up if you know about it."

"But I didn't know about it." Hawke pointed out. "You did."

"But I just told you. So now you do." the mouse said, frowning. How do I know he's frowning? Hawke wondered. He's basically just eyes and whiskers.

"I see." Rocking back on her heels slightly, Hawke peered at the door again. Still very boring. Totally non-threatening. How clever.

Maker, how sad am I? Talking to mice and praising a door's intelligence? she thought wryly. Maybe I'm finally in over my head.

"And you said you were?" she asked, sparing a quick glance at the door before turning to the mouse.

"I didn't." the mouse said, again giving the distinct feeling of frowning. "You haven't even introduced yourself."

"Well. I'm Hawke. Formerly of Kirkwall and the family Amell. And you are?" Hawke asked with only the slightest tinge of amusement. She found her eyes quite naturally had been resting on that door again. Odd, how much she suddenly wanted to know what was behind it.

" I-I am...well that is..."

"Yes?" Hawke prodded.

"I...I don't know." the mouse stammered. "It's been so long since anyone asked. I'm fairly sure whatever it is, must be unimportant compared to other spirits however."

"A spirit of modesty then?" Hawke laughed as she once again tore her eyes away from the door and back to the mouse. "You've certainly got the temperament for it."

"Modesty is a virtue." the mouse said contemplatively as it washed first one tiny paw and then the next. "A good quality. Is that what I am?"

"Don't ask me." Hawke sighed dramatically, putting her hands behind her head. "For all I know you could be a demon giving my leg a good tug before you bite it off. Believe me that wouldn't be a first either."

"If I was a demon-" the mouse started, twitching its whiskers at her. "Wouldn't I know that?"

A good point. Hawke conceded as she stared at the diminutive rodent. I can't tell if that's a genuine question or some sort of sly admission of guilt. Either way, it's clear this mouse is more than he appears. I probably shouldn't give him an opportunity to play too much.

"So. That door." she started carefully. "Do you know what's behind it? Is there some kind of horrible demony surprise, I should be aware of? "

"Demony?" the mouse questioned, widening it's eyes. "Is that what's behind-"

So much for the direct approach Hawke grinned to herself. Now on to my specialty...

"Oh I get it! You wanted it to be a surprise. Okay. Tell you what, you keep playing innocent and I'll sneak off. It'll be fun." And with that, Hawke turned on her heel and begin to walk away. It was surprisingly harder to do than she thought it would be. She really did want to know what was behind that door.

"Wait!" the mouse squeaked plaintively. "Please. I'm just so curious...it's been years since someone opened that door."

"Aha! So someone has opened that door before and you do know what's inside it." Hawke said turning around quickly and jabbing an accusatory finger at the mouse.

"Yes...the mouse said reluctantly. "But that's not what I'm curious about. You see, beyond the door there, is this very long path. I can't see what's at the end but something's there, I know it. I'd go myself but seeing as how I'm so weak I don't think I'd survive the trip."

"Well"...Hawke said, pretending to consider this, while peeking at the tiny figure from the corner of her eye. "I suppose...it couldn't hurt to help. I mean what's a death in the Fade besides a major jolt of excruciating pain in the real world? It's not like I'm in any danger of waking up tranquil."

"Right, right." the mouse agreed eagerly. "Wait. What's tranquil?"

"Never mind that." Hawke said abruptly as she scooped up the mouse. "Let's get moving."

"Hey-" the mouse protested.

"You wanted to know what was down there, right?" Hawke questioned. "What better way than to come with me?"

"I meant you should come back here and tell me." the mouse said pointedly. "That would be far less dangerous."

"And the cats?" Hawke asked. "Should I walk all the way down there and back just to find out some demony cat made you its dinner? "

"Cats?" the mouse squeaked in a vaguely alarmed voice. "There aren't any cats here as far as I know."

"That's not what I saw but if you'd prefer..." Hawke said letting just a shot of reluctant concern creep into her voice.

"No. I'll come with you." the mouse said hurriedly. "Just, if we're going to go, let's get going. You're squishing me."

"Agreed." Hawke said, walking towards the door briskly. "But- " and here she paused to grip the mouse a bit tighter. "A warning. If I open this door and find half a dozen demons back there waiting to sing happy birthday, consider yourself hors d'oeuvres."

Gulping visibly, the mouse nodded. Hawke had just enough time to wonder if the mouse was having sudden regrets when the door popped open and she found herself face to face with the strangest sight she'd seen in years. Although I really shouldn't be surprised. she thought. It's been on my mind non-stop these past two years.

"Well," she said brightly to the mouse. "Maker hates a coward."


	3. Fenris, the Last Eight Years

Chapter 3: Fenris, The Past Eight Years.

* * *

Somewhere not far from where Hawke drifted into a new adventure- a certain tattooed elf awoke, startled from his dream by the panicked shout welling up in his throat.

That dream again, he panted, running a hand through his sweat-dampened hair. Damnit.

Ever since returning to the Free Marches, he'd had these nightmares. He couldn't exactly remember anything from them, the images were too jumbled together in bits and broken pieces for that but each had left a clear impression none the less.

Trouble. And Hawke cheerfully making her way straight to the heart of it. Not so unusual if you knew her, Fenris had to admit. The problem here was unlike the other battles Hawke had gone into and won, this time she was totally unaware of the odds against her. No, not unaware...he amended quickly, troubled by memories of all the times he'd spotted that familiar gleam in Hawke's eyes. Doesn't care.

Not that she wasn't capable. He couldn't doubt her abilities after watching her take down the Arishok. But for the big battles; the high dragon, Xebenkeck, Meredith, they'd been there. Always three of them, depending on who was available to run around Kirkwall stirring up trouble. And if not that, at least Anders.

Anders. Fenris thought, feeling a familiar flush of raw anger well up in him. Somehow, someway this is his fault. I know it.

Thinking about that and his old rival, Fenris realized, still had the same effect.

I still want to kill him. Fenris thought shaking his head. After all these years...I still want nothing more than to rip out his stupid, lying heart.

* * *

"I love her. You have no idea what that means."

That one little comment.

The mage had never realized just how close to death he'd been then. Not even later, when most of Kirkwall found out what had happened and who had made it happen was he closer. One heartless mage, finally minus one heart.

The reason he hadn't acted on it, the ONLY reason, had been looking at potions at the time, too concerned with the benefits of having another dozen Life ward potions than who might possibly be needing one.

But then he'd left her, hadn't he?

So when she'd moved on, he should have been ready for it. It was inevitable that someone as strong as Hawke, would get over things quickly. He just wasn't prepared for how quickly and with who.

It wasn't a surprise how Anders felt about this. As long as he'd known him, the mage had been in a constant state of pining over Hawke. At first, Fenris couldn't tell if this was because of Hawke's natural charm or just that there so were few options for an abomination. Later, as he himself fell for Hawke, he admitted grudgingly that it had probably always been the former especially when you took into account how often and how long the mage looked at her.

Hawke, forever the flirt had encouraged him of course. Like she'd encouraged Isabela, Merrill and even Sebastion.

But then it'd gone further. What Fenris hoped was a fling turned into a full-blown disaster as time after time, Hawke's common sense was beaten out by an almost obsessive, desire to keep Anders by her side.

She'd do anything to keep him, he thought morosely one day, as they gathered the last pieces of what was to become the end of Kirkwall's Chantry. Even if it means losing herself in the process.

* * *

He'd stuck by her side regardless.

* * *

Some eight years after their confrontation with Meredith and the collapse of the Circles, he'd found himself in-of all the unlikeliest places-Fereldan.

There are...alot of dogs here, he'd thought upon arriving.

Still, it grew on a person. And after only a few weeks, he'd settled in Denerim. He had considered the rebuilt Lothering for a time, until the constant internal questioning of his motives forced him to move on.

Over time, he began a hobby collecting Hero of Fereldan stories. He had to admit, her exploits intrigued him, as he considered the similarities between hers and Hawke's lives. There was so much intertwining between the two, so many people they had both met and influenced to one degree or another.

If it was a story I would think it was all going somewhere, that these two were destined to meet, Fenris thought one day as he listened to yet another drunk tell the story of how the mighty King Alistair had tamed the Hero of Ferelden before claiming her as his own.

Probably the other way around, Fenris considered, bemused at the thought of the awkward King he'd met in Kirkwall, seducing anyone. Definitely the other way around if she's anything like Hawke.

Six years after he'd arrived in Fereldan a disturbing discontent spread amongst the people of Denerim, as they realized the Queen, their hero, hadn't been seen in months. Rumors of what had become of her became a nervous habit even as King Alistair, stayed silent.

All at once, the threat of apostate mages and neighboring Orlais seemed that much closer and Denerim that much darker as the people considered their country minus one legendary Hero.

He stayed on 2 more years under this uneasy time. The queen didn't return and Alistair didn't remarry. He also refused to speak of it. This soured most of his subjects against him as only the most vicious rumors seemed to shed light on his motives.

For his own part, Fenris couldn't see foul play involved. But he also found himself trusting the kindly king's smile alot less.

* * *

His last year in Fereldan, was also the first year he received a letter from Hawke. Seeing the distinctive handwriting on it, he had paused, weighing the pros and cons of tearing it up unread and finally deciding against it.

He didn't hate her, he knew he never could. But he found himself reluctant to be back under her spell just the same. There was more than one kind of slave and Fenris didn't relish the idea of becoming one to his heart again.

The letter, he feared might change that.

He left it on a table in his house, just the same. He couldn't bring himself to destroy it but he could will himself not to read it.

That had lasted all of a month before curiosity set in. And as expected, he'd written back, cursing himself for a fool, but unable to help himself.

And so it began again.

He placated his growing alarm at how much he anticipated her letters, with some cleverly and not so cleverly disguised barbs directed against Anders and magekind in general but he couldn't fool himself. He was back under her spell again and all it took was a simple letter.

Then one night while at the Gnawed Noble Tavern, idly wondering how a woman he'd last seen eight years ago, could captivate him so, a note was dropped onto his table. Not bothering to look after the messenger, he'd opened the crumbled paper...his hands growing cold as he realized at least half of it was soaked in blood.

Fen- (it began)

I know you said to stop sending you books, but I came across one the other day-

The rest of the letter was completely unreadable as a large clot of dried blood had soaked the remaining space. Underneath that, someone had scrawled in the margin (in an impressively flowery script considering the ink used)-

**_"When a wicked one dies, their hope perishes; all they expected from their might comes to nothing. A warning to those who'd shelter such a person, lest their lives also come to be meaningless."_**

He'd jumped up then, scattering his drink and the table both, meaning to extract a less holy explanation from the messenger before crushing their hearts when he noticed a curious thing. The formerly crowded bar was empty. Well... not exactly empty. The corpses of the bar's patrons still sat in their original places, but most were now slumped over for different reasons altogether.

That was the night he knew he would be returning to the Free Marches.

He'd left then, ignoring the piles of bodies and the blood running down the floorboards. Most of it, despite being in pools looked quite sticky. As if it had plenty of time to dry.

About the time it takes a person to drink a few ales and get lost in memories, he thought.

* * *

A couple of hours before daybreak, he found himself again on the sea, bound for the Free Marshes and a menace he hadn't expected to see outside of Teventir.

Little as he knew about this assassin's kind, he was sure this was a bad idea. After all, what better way to find a disappearing hero than through the people dedicated to keeping her safe? Not that he could stop himself. Not when he knew how small a box, they used to ship back the remains.

* * *

And that brought him back here, back to this silent forest, outside of Sundermount. Back to the dreams he'd been having since he'd set foot in Kirkwall and the fiend that was undoubtedly even now watching him.

Misdirection and a warning, that's all I can do for her, he thought. Let it be enough.

=====================================================================End Chapter 3

Much longer than the other two chapters but I had alot of fun writing this. I hope Fenris doesn't seem too OOC (out of character) but it's my suspicion that he might have mellowed out over the years, what with the whole 'no one from his past left to kill thing' behind him. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Next up! Anders: The Past Eight Years ^^


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